


Scribble

by madbutterfly



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 21:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4538832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madbutterfly/pseuds/madbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitchell finds out something strange about Anders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Poetry

Mitchell and Anders are just sitting watching TV when it happens - Anders writing rapidly on a piece of paper catches Mitchell’s eye.

“What are you doing?” Mitchell asks, frowning. “You’re not even looking at what you’re writing.”

“Hmm?” Anders asks, glancing away from the TV to frown right back at Mitchell. “Oh, that? It just happens sometimes. Bragi wants to write and I let him occasionally.”

“So he’s… taking control of your arm?”

Anders shrugs slightly, his hand not faltering. “I guess. It’s either let it happen or have my head filled with poetry. Not really my thing, if I’m honest with you. And it’s really distracting.”

“How can you not be into poetry if you’re the god of it?”

“I don’t know, that’s not all Bragi’s about! I’m good with words, I like words, that doesn’t automatically mean I like poetry,” Anders says defensively.

“Can I read it?”

“If you want, doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Well, it  _is_  your work.”

“Bragi’s work.”

“You… you are Bragi.”

“Only technically. I’m not even concentrating on what’s being written right now, you can hardly say it’s my own work.”

“It’s coming out of your brain, so yes it is.”

“I’m not arguing this with you. You can read it if you want, but I can’t guarantee its quality or claim ownership. In fact I refuse. You’re welcome to read it but only if you acknowledge that it has nothing to do with me first.”

“Fine, it has nothing to do with you. Can I see?”

“When Bragi’s finished, which he’s clearly not.” Anders looks at his arm, which is writing rather less frantically now. “Never really got used to letting him take over like this. Makes my arm feel all tingly.”

“I can’t believe you can be so casual about this.”

“It’s been happening since I was twenty-one, the novelty’s worn off. More an annoyance than anything. Can we get back to the TV now?”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to all this god stuff. Anything else I should know about?”

“Hmm. Not that I can think of,” Anders mutters, very clearly not putting any thought into it at all. “Again, TV? Please?”

“You’re so weird, just scribbling away and not even  _acknowledging how weird that is_.”

“Okay, I’ll gag you if I have to, but I am actually trying to watch this show. If you must go on about this, try to save it for an ad break.”

“…fine, but don’t think this means it’s any less weird.”


	2. Sketches

“I don’t fucking care, Mike, if you really-”

Mitchell was sitting on the couch, minding his own business and trying to tune out the sound of Anders arguing with his brother again, and he only noticed what was happening because he glanced over at the right time.

“…are you doing it again?” he muttered, trying to crane his neck to see without getting up off the couch.

“You can say that as often as you want, it doesn’t change anything!” Anders spat into the phone, ignoring Mitchell.

Hmm.

Mitchell stood up and walked over to the kitchen where Anders was having what he supposed could be called a conversation with his older brother. He couldn’t get a good angle to see what he was writing, but he was  _definitely_  doing that weird arm thing again! It was kind of intriguing, in a way. It didn’t actually look like he was writing this time, though. Anders’ body was blocking his view of the paper, but the movements were all wrong. Drawing, instead, then? That didn’t seem right; Mitchell hadn’t thought Bragi had had anything to do with that sort of thing.

“Oh, fuck you, you arrogant dick,” Anders announced and promptly hung up the phone. After a few more moments, he set the pencil down and turned around, apparently finished with the sheet of paper he’d been scribbling on a moment ago. “Oh, Jesus fuck! Mitch - do you really need to sneak around like that?”

Mitchell laughed apologetically. “Sorry, I was trying not to interrupt. Not that it seemed like a talk you were particularly enjoying. Issues with Mike again?”

“Yeah, he can’t seem to wrap his mind around the fact that he doesn’t actually have a say in how I live my life. What is it?”

“You… you’re doing that arm thing again, aren’t you?” asked Mitchell. He still couldn’t see the paper.

“Hmm. I guess. So what? You know I do it now.”

“Yeah, but that didn’t look like you were writing. Can you do it with other things as well?”

Anders huffed. “Maybe.”

“You can! Were you drawing? You know I love your drawings.” Mitchell smiled. “But I didn’t think Bragi was a, you know… drawing kind of god.”

“He’s not. Usually he just wants an outlet for poetry but if I let him take over while I’m drawing it can usually make the need for writing go away for a bit. I’ve already got the skills to make sure it looks okay, he just decided what should be drawn and puts those skills to use for his own purposes. I think he just likes the feeling of pencil on paper.”

Mitchell leaned to the side, trying to see what had been drawn. “Is that a face?” he asked. “Who is it?”

Anders turned and looked at the paper. “That would be you.”

“Really?” Mitchell asked. “Okay, now you have to let me see!”

Anders huffed and reached over, handing the paper over to Mitchell and watching his eyes scan over it.

“It’s really good… not sure how much it looks like me, but it’s definitely good.”

“It looks exactly like you, I’ll have you know! That sounded like you doubted my abilities there.”

Mitchell let out a little laugh. “Well of course I’d never do that. I thought you said it had nothing to do with you when you were writing that poetry the other day.”

“Well, it doesn’t, but when it comes to art? He’s using the skills that I built up over the years, so I should definitely take some credit.”

Mitchell directed his gaze back to the paper in his hand. “Would… would you mind if I kept this?” he asked quietly.

“If you want to,” Anders said, sounding a little surprised.

Mitchell beamed and Anders felt his knees go slightly weak - it was that smile, he’d never seen one like it and it took his breath away every time.

“Thank you,” Mitchell replied, pecking Anders on the lips.

“Well, at least now we can say for certain that Bragi’s rather fond of you too.”


End file.
